


Faking it

by Hermit9



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 13:09:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6611800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hermit9/pseuds/Hermit9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt : Remember that scene when  Spike punches Tara to prove she's not a demon? What if he was faking it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faking it

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of the dialogue is directly from episode 84, all the credit for that wonderful banter goes to the original writers!

The fight had left him with the pleasant tingling edge of adrenaline, eyes clear and blood flowing in a way that was almost - but not quite - enough to make him feel alive. It was close to making him feel like his old, proper self, in any case. And if that same fight had left the Slayer slightly breathless and covered in a sheer layer of sweat, well, he wasn’t one to complain.

He tore his eyes off her when the new humans spoke, self-consciously doing a sweep to make sure none of the Scoobies had caught him leering.

“What in God’s name is that?”

  
“Lei-ach demon.” He shrugged as the gang turned toward him. “Fun little buggers. Big with the marrow sucking.”

  
He smirked a little, privately amused as he stalked towards the workout room. He almost missed a step as it hit him. Fear. Raw fear, like a cornered prey before a predator, facing the snapping jaws. It had been a while since he had a proper dose of that, and, while it was a nice reminder, Spike was quite certain he was the most dangerous thing still standing, and he sure as hell wasn’t vamping out on anyone. He took a few steps back towards the group, casual, still hanging back, trying to pinpoint the source. Tuning out the familiar scent of the shop and the Scoobies. Even Buffy’s, after a minute struggle he would never admit to. He narrowed his eyes as he pinpointed Tara as the source. Shy, harmless, witchy Tara who never spoke to him like he was a monster. He wasn’t sure he liked that, the fear on her.

He tuned out the conversation, Watching the body language and reactions was much more telling. Willow, concerned and turning into her mother hen persona. Xander, defaulting to loyal and protective, but not moving from Anya’s side. Giles, worried, proud, annoyed. Dawn being cocky. All normal reactions from the gang. He slouched his shoulders a bit, as if slowly leaning on the bookcase next to him and extended the observation to the three outsiders. This position also kept the Slayer in his line of sight, and he quite liked that black tank on her; he gave half a thought to shifting a bit so he could get a better view of her then let it go, a touch wistfully.

“Demon,” the older one was saying. “The women in our family… have demon in them. Her mother had it. That’s where the magic comes from.”

Tara ducked her head in shame, fear rising out of her again. That was as good as a confirmation. Spike turned his unblinking, unsettling, undead stare to the Maclays. He had learned this trick from Angelus, trying to make them slightly uncomfortable, to reveal themselves more. The advantage of having been a predator for so long, and surviving in a group of worse predators, was that you learned to read people fairly accurately. The patriarch was growing frustrated. Angry even. He was a bully, an entitled man-child who expected everyone around him to bow to his will. His son was much the same, but defensive. This was confusing him, how someone was showing disrespect. This clearly wasn’t done. The girl, however, was interesting. She was swinging widely between anger and relief. He noted the added anger and emphasis on the word “girl” when Maclay spoke. The open confusion towards the Slayer, Dawn and Willow. How the man was reassured when Giles stepped in. Maclay had obviously expected the oldest-looking man in the room to be in charge.

He turned back to the actual conversation almost on autopilot when Xander took half a step forward.

  
“You’re dealing with all of us.”

“‘Cept me.” The answer was short and rough but there wasn’t really bite in it.

“‘Cept Spike,” Xander granted easily.

“I don’t care what happens,” he added, but that was even weaker. None of the Scoobies reacted, thankfully, allowing him to save face, though he didn’t care how things got resolved, really. He just wanted Tara to stop flinching like she was being whipped with every word her father said.

He smirked as Xander stepped in to threaten the brother, but there was no way he could properly teach that lesson to a human these days. Besides, Xander had survived being in a Slayer’s circle for this long. He was, Spike admitted grudgingly, a decent fighter. He focused back on the girl with the ridiculous pink cardigan. The stumped confusion when Anya brought up actual demonology was actually entertaining. The father’s non-answer was the last puzzle piece, clicking into place almost audibly in his mind.

“Oohh,” he said. “Why don’t I make this simple?”

He closed the distance between Tara and himself easily, like closing in on prey (gods he missed hunting properly). He tapped her shoulder to make her acknowledge him, sad that the actual predator **wasn’t** the one she was afraid of at the moment.Then he took in a quick breath and punched her, keeping loose and holding back his strength and trying to keep his eyes soft.He pulled his head back wincing in pain and groaning before his brain registered that there wasn’t actually any pain. He had anticipated and expected it, but there was nothing, no searing punishment from the chip in his cortex. He decided to roll with it. All those nights faking, well, **everything** , with Harmony had to be good practice for something.

“Hey!” Willow exclaimed angrily. Then again, much more softly, to Tara “Hey!”

Tara was holding both of her hands over her face, pain and surprise radiating from her in equal amounts.

“He hit my nose.”

Willow smiled, nodding emphatically.

“And it hurt! Him, I mean.” Willow’s smile grew as Tara pieced that information together.

The Slayer turned back to Tara’s father with a definitive note in her voice

“And that only works on humans.”

“There's no demon in there,” Spike added after a beat. “That's just a family legend, am I right?” He smirked as he noticed the anger growing in the human. “Just a bit of spin to keep the ladies in line. Oh, you're a piece of work. I like you.” He smirked again for good measure. There was something deeply satisfying about making the kind of people his mother would have called good company squirm.

“I'm not a demon,” Tara said very softly, to Willow.

“You're not a demon,” the redheaded witch answered.

“He hurt my nose.” Tara’s hands were still hovering protectively over her face as Willow awwed in compassion.

“Yeah, you're welcome,” Spike said, making a show of rubbing his forehead and wincing before stalking off to the storeroom to have time to think things over by himself. He heard the Maclays leave and smiled a bit ruefully. He would have liked to see that fight Xander had promised. The gang milled around for a bit after they were gone, trying to decide how to dispose of the Lei-ach he guessed. He leaned against the shelving, trying to figure out a reason not to go back to the crypt, and most importantly what to tell Harmony.

“Spike?” Tara’s voice was very soft and low as she walked into the storeroom.

“Here,” he said, moving from the dark corner he had huddled in.

“I… I wanted to thank you… For… For not telling them”

“It’s ok love. I didn’t like the way that man was talking to you.”

“He’s… he’s my dad”

“Doesn’t give him the right...” He paused for a moment “Remind me to talk to you about my mum one day.”

Tara looked at him confused but she nodded.

“So, what type of demon was your mother?” Spike asked after a few seconds had gone by.

“Great grand-mother. A Vigorie.”

“Never heard of them.”

“You won’t tell?”

“Nah. Funner this way. And I figure you’ll owe me one for a rainy day. Now go see your girlfriend before she curses me with something painful.”

“Oh… ok.” Tara ducked her head but she was still smiling a bit as she exited the room. Spike waited until they were all gone to leave, having no desire to have this same conversation with the Slayer. He locked the door behind him and took the long way home.


End file.
